“Let’s take a break,” Sakumo Hatake said, sheathing his white chakra sabre and stepping back.
Kakashi Hatake immediately collapsed onto the grass, completely discarding his image as he panted heavily.
Every single sparring session with his father felt like navigating a localized hell tier.
Even though he was a prodigy among prodigies, he was facing the White Fang of the Leaf—a name that struck absolute terror into the hearts of enemy nations across the shinobi world.
“Is that boy your classmate?” Sakumo asked, casting his gaze toward Hanekawa, who was still running laps along the perimeter track.
“Yeah,” Kakashi said, letting out a long breath.
“His name is Hanekawa.
His Genjutsu talent is decent.” “Just Genjutsu?” Sakumo countered smoothly.
“Did you notice something?” Kakashi blinked, slightly stunned.
He knew his father possessed an extraordinary combat perception and rarely misjudged a person’s potential.
“His baseline stamina is exceptional,” Sakumo said, stroking his chin.
“And he carries the exact same brand of absolute confidence that you do.” “He thoroughly dismantled Asuma a while back, so it’s normal for him to be confident,” Kakashi replied, not finding it surprising at all.
“I see,” Sakumo smiled warmly.
“Perhaps he will grow into a formidable rival for you.” “He won’t,” Kakashi shot back flatly.
He wasn’t a reckless hothead like Asuma; he wouldn’t fall for a basic illusion that easily.
Sakumo didn’t press the matter further.
True geniuses always possessed an immense amount of pride, and his son was currently undefeated among his peers.
After an unknown period, Hanekawa finally slowed his pace and ground to a halt.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he mentally calculated his performance.
Thanks to the Robust Physique trait, his stamina baseline had scaled significantly, allowing him to sustain his high-velocity conditioning for an extra thirty minutes.
Kakashi and Sakumo had already departed the training ground at some point.
Refusing to linger, Hanekawa turned on his heel and headed home.
Time bled away dynamically.
Another school week quickly drew to a close.
Over the past seven days, Hanekawa had single-mindedly focused on two specific routines: grinding his running circuits at the Fourth Training Ground and practicing his projectile accuracy in the backyard woods.
On Sunday morning, Hanekawa woke up early and jogged back to the training field.
Suppressing his anticipation, he adjusted his breathing and launched straight into his running circuit.
A dozen minutes later, the iconic white-haired father and son duo materialized in the clearing.
Having grown accustomed to Hanekawa’s presence over the past weeks, a silent, mutual understanding had formed between both sides; they simply occupied their respective zones and focused entirely on their independent training.
“Huh?” Sakumo suddenly let out a soft sound of surprise.
He noticed Hanekawa’s velocity abruptly spike, his raw running speed scaling roughly 10% faster than his previous baseline.
Is he launching into a final sprint?
No, that’s not it.
Sakumo’s eyes narrowed slightly.
His baseline attributes have broken through their threshold.
He deduced this based entirely on the boy’s respiratory patterns; despite the sudden spike in movement velocity, Hanekawa’s breathing remained perfectly steady and controlled.
“Kakashi,” Sakumo said, a look of profound intrigue flashing across his face.
“It seems my assessment was accurate.
That boy is definitely going to become a formidable rival for you.” Hanekawa’s raw movement speed was already comparable to the baseline performance of an active Genin.
But the truly terrifying aspect wasn’t his current output—it was his absurd rate of growth.
“The end of the term is approaching.
I will thoroughly defeat Hanekawa in a match and file the paperwork to graduate early,” Kakashi said.
He hadn’t personally tracked Hanekawa’s mechanical adjustments, but his father’s continuous praise of the transfer student had thoroughly ignited his competitive fire.
“I shall look forward to it,” Sakumo said, thoroughly amused.
“I will make sure to attend the examination to watch the match myself.” “I won’t disappoint you,” Kakashi replied, drawing his training sabre.
The fierce clash between father and son resumed.
An hour later, Hanekawa let out a long, satisfied breath.
[E-Rank Talent Trait: Fleet-Footed (Acquired).] [Trigger Condition: Bring raw movement velocity up to the highest baseline of an ordinary Genin.] [Effect: Increases raw leg power and stride leverage by 10% on top of your existing foundation.] He had already verified the mechanical advantages of the new trait while running; the system’s definition of ‘leg power’ didn’t merely encompass raw physical strength, but directly translated into a substantial upgrade to his overall movement velocity.
Though a 10% modifier sounded modest, for his current progression arc, it was a massive attribute spike.
With a thought, Hanekawa pulled up his system dashboard to review his ongoing projects.
He currently had three primary traits in development: E-Rank Trait Top of the Class: Requires securing the number one rank on the theoretical portion of the upcoming term exams.
E-Rank Trait Seven Varieties of Ninja Tools: He had successfully achieved high-level proficiency with four distinct types: shuriken, kunai, senbon, and Fūma shuriken.
He simply needed to pick up three more varieties.
D-Rank Trait Medical Ninja: Compared to his rapid progress elsewhere, this trait hadn’t even triggered its introductory baseline yet.
Staring at the massive mountain of medical literature, Hanekawa felt a major headache coming on.
He finally understood why medical specialists were so rare in the shinobi world; the theoretical entry barrier was aggressively steep.
But since the prospect of catching Tsunade’s personal attention was a massive strategic imperative for his survival, he refused to abandon the grind.
Satisfied with his physical conditioning for the day, Hanekawa shut down the interface and headed home.
The moment he pushed open the front door and stepped onto the entryway floor, the environment violently shifted.
Creak.
The living room storage cabinet abruptly began sliding toward him like a living monster.
Genjutsu: Release!
Hanekawa instantly disrupted the internal circulation of his own chakra network, causing the false optical landscape to snap back into reality.
“How on earth did you break it that fast?!” Kurenai wailed, looking thoroughly frustrated as she stepped out from behind the wall.
“A sneak attack won’t work if your mechanics are flawed,” Hanekawa smiled, reaching out to give her head a casual pat.
“What exactly did I mess up?” Kurenai asked, completely ignoring his head-rubbing as she pressed for answers.
“The structural rendering of your illusion world lacked fundamental attention to detail,” Hanekawa explained casually.
An ordinary Genjutsu specialist operated very much like a digital modeler from his past life; the more immaculate and logical your construction was, the less likely the target’s subconscious would flag it as an anomaly.
Of course, the Sharingan-wielding Uchiha completely bypassed this limitation; if their visual prowess was deep enough, you could be fully aware you were trapped in a Genjutsu and still find it structurally impossible to break free—such as Itachi’s future Tsukuyomi.
“I’m heading to the shower,” Hanekawa said, slipping out of his running shoes.
“Once I’m cleaned up, I’ll properly guide you through your illusion setups.” “Mmh,” Kurenai murmured, her mind already hyper-focusing on his critique as she tried to calculate which specific textures in her illusion cabinet had lacked realism.
The hot water washed away his exhaustion, and Hanekawa let out a long sigh of absolute comfort.
A warm bath after an intense workout was truly one of life’s greatest luxuries.
“Hanekawa, you smell really nice,” Kurenai blurted out instinctively the moment he stepped back into the living area.
Hanekawa almost face-planted onto the carpet.
Please tell me you’re making a cute anime reference, not pulling a Hannibal Lecter on me.
“Where’s the hair dryer?” Hanekawa asked, collapsing onto the sofa.
“Why don’t you go grab it yourself?” Kurenai put her hands on her hips, scowling playfully.
If this dynamic kept up, her grand blueprint of being the big sister boss was going to collapse entirely—she was practically turning into his personal maid.
How could a proud kunoichi like her tolerate living under someone else’s shadow forever?
“Consider it the tuition fee for my private Genjutsu coaching,” Hanekawa offered a flawless, charming smile.
Having grown thoroughly well-acquainted with her over the past weeks, this baseline level of playful bickering had become standard routine.
“…” Kurenai opened her mouth to argue, thought better of it, and huffed in defeat.
She marched over to the cabinet, snatched the hair dryer, and aggressively shoved it into his hands.
“Don’t flatter yourself thinking I’m actually gonna dry your hair for you!” Kurenai declared proudly, taking a firm step back and tilting her chin up in a textbook display of tsundere defiance.
“I honestly wasn’t expecting you to,” Hanekawa chuckled, flicking the power switch.
“You jerk!” Kurenai glared at him, her ruby eyes flashing with competitive fire.
Hanekawa leisurely dried his hair.
Setting the device aside, he casually reached into his pouch and produced a bright, colorful lollipop.
“Here.
This is for you.” Kurenai’s eyes subconsciously locked onto the sweet treat.
But recalling his teasing behavior just a moment ago, she forced out a soft snort, trying desperately to maintain her dignity.
“I don’t want it!” “Are you absolutely certain?” Hanekawa smoothly peeled off the plastic wrapper and began guiding the candy toward his own mouth.
“Hey!
Wait!” Kurenai yelled out in a panic.
In the next microsecond, a burst of intense sweetness flooded her senses as Hanekawa deftly glided the lollipop straight past her lips.
“Let’s go,” Hanekawa said, standing up with a grin.
“Time for your Genjutsu lesson.” The corners of Kurenai’s mouth curled into a happy smile.
Stepping lightly, she eagerly followed him into the training room.